


tempest heart

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Fantasizing, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, it's more like a discussion of first times but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: Ignis misses Gladio sorely while he's away.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	tempest heart

_Did you miss me,_ Gladio asked still barely through the hallway door, barely free of his coat and travelling bag. And yet already the room was brighter for his presence, the world easier in the face of his grin and wide-open arms, hopeful. The scent of his cologne was intimately familiar, floral and fresh, and made Ignis’ mouth run dry.

There was nothing shameful about the feelings he struggled to control. For years Ignis had known yearning, helpless against desire that grew only tenfold when Gladio became his. It was perfectly understandable that his impulses were difficult to rein in - their relationship was a fledgling still, and they were merely young men at their core despite it all. Bundles of hormones and longing, scarcely tamed power erupting within. Ignis needed release to sharpen his focus and his own hand could no longer sate him.

With Gladio departed from the city for several days visiting senior members of the Amicitia clan, Ignis had nothing more than himself. The effect on his famed focus had been almost immediate, his reason shortly following suit. A quick mind became muddled by the absence of his lover and greatest confidant, even as his duties doubled. Ignis stood ready as retainer, advisor, the leader of Noctis’ temporary security team, and there was no time left in the day for him to simply be Ignis. Daily life became a hurry, a blur that Ignis endeavoured to soldier through, feet clumsily stuck in the muddied mess of regular life in the Citadel and his body still inspired, suffering ceaseless hunger.

Gladio had touched him for the first time only recently. Often Ignis swore he could still feel the ghost of his hands upon Ignis’ hips. In their youthful uncertainty, unwilling to shatter something delicate and new, they had only begun with nervous hands. Ignis’ palms swept across Gladio’s sides and his fingertips traced the ridge of his muscles, lips worshipping Gladio’s, and Gladio had graduated quickly to using his mouth for Ignis’ pleasure once he was sure Ignis was comfortable with more. And it was maddening – Ignis could think of nothing else in the long days since and judging by suggestive texts in the late evenings and early mornings, hungry eyes when they passed one another in the afternoons, Gladio suffered the same.

There had been hastily made plans to meet at Ignis’ apartment that fell abruptly into ruin, and now Gladio was gone. Miles from reach and too busy to entertain Ignis’ soured longing. No longer could Ignis step away from piling duties for an embrace and a shared kiss, and no longer could the worst of his tension and base desire be released into Gladio’s wet mouth or dispelled by merciless sparing. As the days slipped by Ignis’ coil of tension had been tightening, pulling hard – stretching until it snapped without warning.

With Gladio newly before him, his hot skin soothed Ignis’ tempest heart and only inflamed his guilt. Breathing in his scent deeply, the man so charming and suggestive without effort, Ignis tumbled helplessly back into his lust. There was no longer hope of retaining his composure – standing fast, standing strong. So overwhelmed with Gladio his desire could never be contained, the very same way it had spiralled all through his stark absence and lead to Ignis digging through his small pile of laundry to find the shirt Gladio had left behind.

Usually Ignis preferred to be kind to himself. A gentle hand coaxing his soft cock, petting and stroking with great care until the vulnerable flesh rest heavy and dripping in his palm. A slow pace would build quicker as pleasure spread, the promise of an orgasm cresting. Toes curled and his lips would part, panting softly. Ignis cherished that time to himself, to relax and bask in the thrum of delight, and it was Gladio’s shirt against his chest and his nose that possessed him, own fist now pumping hard as his legs began to tremble. He was restless, starving – nigh feral, all for Gladio, and Ignis was still insufferably alone. Desperate to spend himself and ease the fire in his belly he dreamed of Gladio, by his side watching or even straddling his thighs, wet cock in his own fist, lustful through and through and wanting nothing more than to watch Ignis lose himself in pleasure.

Perhaps he would spill himself on Ignis’ heaving belly or let Ignis repay the pleasure of his flawless mouth in kind. Such thoughts threw accelerant into the already blazing fire. His skin was slick with sweat and he wriggled out of his constricting clothes, skin so sensitive the friction became unbearable.

Through it all Ignis dreamed of lips across his shoulders, tracing the freckles and building up along the tense line of his throat. Bare skin felt blissful against the cool, tangled sheets but Gladio’s absent heat was unparalleled. The grit of his voice and weight of his body always made Ignis come hard, and even in his absence Ignis swore he could feel his gaze. Cologne drove him deeper into the fantasy, flesh on the mind, the weight of himself in his own hand unbearable. Ignis needed to come, make a mess of his own belly, Gladio’s face. His lover’s name became a chant, surging in his empty apartment, and in the moment of orgasm there was no such thing as shame.

_Did you miss me,_ Gladio asked, playful and yet hopeful, and Ignis had been dripping only for him. Hot come soaked his hand, pulsing filthy against his skin. Ignis made himself come again and again, insatiable in the cover of night and dreaming of Gladio touching himself in turn, thinking only of Ignis’ novice mouth and desperate to please hands, grinding up his hips until he slipped inside **.**

“Yes,” Ignis murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around Gladio’s bulk, tucking his head into the ebbing heat of Gladio’s throat, feeling himself already half hard in his slacks, and committing his enthralling scent to memory.


End file.
